Snails
by theboywiththebook
Summary: Something has slithered into the kitchen, and Belle wants to give it a home.


It was a snail. Belle stared at it carefully, her feather duster long forgotten as she watched it slither slowly on its way to wherever snails decided to go when they began there ever so long trek across short distances.

She was supposed to be cleaning, but what was there really to clean? The books were all alphabetized, the floors gleamed, and even dusting the Dark Castle barely took an hour. She sometimes suspected that her master used his incredibly powerful magic to keep her work load light, but she never voiced her opinions, because then he might get flustered, giggle, and conjure up some horrible thing for her to clean.

He had done it when she pointed out once that the chairs didn't need mending, and it was a terrible lot of yelling as she refused to try and stick the legs back on every single chair in the Dark Castle with book paste.

She was his caretaker, but it didn't mean she actually listened to every single ridiculous request.

Carefully picking up the snail, it's shell so delicate and thin as paper, she made a small bowl with her left hand, and hurried away from the window sill where she had come across it. Hurrying to the kitchen cabinet, for that was where she was obviously since where else would you find a cabinet that was meant for kitchens, and pulled out a box like bowl, setting the slimy thing down on it's cool surface, staring as it began to slither again as she placed the bowl on the table.

Now what?

"You need a home," she said to it, for it was alive, and anything alive could obviously _hear_. "Don't worry, I'll figure something out."

Rushing out of the kitchen, her master, the ever so evil, or so people spread rumors about, Rumpelstiltskin opened his mouth, no doubt to ask for more straw or perhaps give her a few quips.

But she rushed on by, not waiting as she customarily did to see if he had any need of her, and his mouth shut with a click as he watched from his spindle her running figure towards the front door.

Which was, more importantly, toward the gardens.

She grabbed a large pot, she was barely able to wrap her arms all the way around it, and began filling it with rich soil. Then, she carefully unearthed some plants, some with flowers, some just green and leafy. She placed a rock or two, and added in a sad looking frog she found by the pond, but then put it back on its rock, it looked even sadder in her rather large pot.

And then came the problem of bringing the pot back inside.

Before, it was heavy, but she was still able to lift it. But now, filled with everything she had decided it needed, it was much too heavy to lift.

So she ran back inside, not worried about her dirt stained dress, rushing past Rumpelstiltskin again, and picked up her snail, since it was obviously hers now as this was the second time she held it.

"Dearie?"

She turned to her master, and smiled at him.

"I'll be with you in a moment; I have something I need to do."

"I… see. And with a snail?" he seemed perplexed, his grins and giggles gone at the sight of his caretaker with dirt covered hands and feet, a leaf in her hair, a snail cradled close to her heart.

"Yes, I found it. I'm going to take care of it now."

He giggled slightly, but it was forced and confused, and she smiled at him.

"Well, if you'd like, come along."

And he did. He followed her back to the garden, watched her deposit the snail in the pot, watched her sit back on her heels and smile, and watched the smile turn to her.

"I found it inside, silly little thing, I have no idea how it got inside. I decided that it should be given a proper home, it was incredibly brave of it to climb all the way inside."

He tilted his head to the side, a little nod.

"You only needed to take it outside though, dearie, no need to do all of this for it. It's just a snail."

"It's alive, isn't it? And besides, it's not just a snail, it could have hopes and dreams, just like you and me," she insisted, standing up and smiling over the small home she had created for her snail.

He watched her, and he was smiling, but she didn't think he realized he was, so she said nothing, but smiled right on back.

"Fetch me more straw, dearie. I'm running low," he walked back inside, waving to her.

"Of course."

"Oh, and by the way," he turned and gave her his impish grins, the one that made her laugh at his silly humor, yell at his annoying ways, and smirk at his childish tantrums. "It's not a snail."

"It's… not?"

"Oh no, haven't you ever wondered what happened to those who broke deals with me? Let's just say, little boy blue has quite a lot of time to contemplate breaking promises, as I'm sure no one wants to kiss a snail."

He ran away from her, giggling high and loud, right up until the point she kissed the snail herself, which of course, did not work since she wasn't the snails true love, and he was forced to make a deal to turn it back or watch his caretaker, his Belle, press her lips once more to the snails slimy head.


End file.
